Thursday, May 7, 1998
Real bruins
Salsa lessons, ballroom waltzes, posterboards:
Just another day for instructor James Zimmer
By Michelle Navarro
Daily Bruin Senior Staff
Who knew that, way after the doors to the Ackerman mini-mall
close, there would be a party going on on the second floor?
Inside the building, students and alumni of various ages meet so
James Zimmer could teach them to dance.
They call him the "tango-man," and rightfully so since he’s
taught over 4,000 Bruins how to do the seductive steps, as well as
hundreds of others.
Zimmer enjoys being well known among certain students on campus.
"What I like most is when people recognize me because they have
enjoyed my dance lessons," says the UCLA alumnus, who was even born
on campus.
Zimmer could be recognized for a number of reasons since he’s in
charge of the International Folk Dance Club, the Ballroom Dance
Club and the Transfer Students Association (TSA). This requires him
to spend the majority of his day, if not all of it, on Bruin
territory.
So even before the first round of sleepy-eyed students begin to
plow up the Walk, Zimmer is there, rolling his small dolly out of
the TSA office.
The sounds of Zimmer’s small grunts when he lifts and carries
the flyer-decked sandwich boards disturb the silence of the empty
halls in Kerckhoff Hall.
"It’s hard physical labor," he says while trying to roll the
hefty boards down the Meyerhoff Hill. "If they are going to meet
their future boyfriends and girlfriends, I better get these
posterboards out."
Zimmer explains that several couples now celebrating their one
year anniversary met at his dance lessons. His parents also met
each other the same way: on a TV show.
One by one, Zimmer meticulously and strategically sets up his
panels – a difficult job for just one person. But the years of
doing the task have given him a routine he follows that even
includes a way to keep the elevators open long enough to transfer
all the boards.
The morning swarm now flows uphill so Zimmer whips out flyers
advertising Monday’s swing night.
"I’ll give a few flyers to see people’s reaction," he says with
a playful grin.
When one girl passes by, he tells her there are salsa lessons
that night. She smiles and says she has to write her thesis.
"That’s the typical answer I get," he jokes.
After a couple of thank you’s, several no-thank you’s and some
no comments at all, Zimmer gives up and continues up to North
campus, with the little dolly following, to set up more sandwich
boards.
When passing Royce Hall, Zimmer pauses. With a far-off look and
an almost passionate tone, he reveals one of his ideas.
"One of my dreams is to send invitations to all the grammar
schools and junior highs so I can teach them folk dances in front
of Royce or by Janss steps," he says, as he squints his eyes and
waves his arm over the grounds.
"Then every few minutes, a small group will go on a tour of the
campus. It would be an opportunity for them to experience another
art form that brings people together," he adds.
For the remainder of the morning, Zimmer takes care of
administrative duties, such as checking and personally responding
to hundreds of e-mails or submitting entries for "What’s
Brewin’."
A little before noon, Zimmer is at Westwood Plaza, helping set
up the sound system for World Fest. He flutters around, weaving in
and out around the plaza like a bumblebee.
On stage, performers warm up for the show, and in the air floats
the scent of something cooking from the food booths.
Then the upbeat sounds of a Brazilian song cut through, followed
by Zimmer’s voice greeting students to the celebration and inviting
them to gather over to the plaza to learn a dance.
Not long after the lesson, the man of many dances has to drive
over to a nearby high school where he started a performance group.
The crew is scheduled for a dress rehearsal for Global Village, a
similar version of World Fest.
Only then is Zimmer able to grab himself a late lunch and some
rest before he has to go back at 6:00 p.m. to set up for salsa
night in Ackerman.
Again he goes to the TSA office to pick up equipment to take
down to the lounge. His expression has grown tired and he moves a
little slower.
"Monday is the hardest day," he says. "I’m more of a night
person so to come early in the morning is hard."
Zimmer tosses a small, black top hat upon the pile of
equipment.
"I literally have to pass the hat around," he says, explaining
that because the membership of the dance club has recently grown,
he is forced to find a place to accommodate the numbers. That means
renting out the Ackerman lounge, a $3,200 expense of which Zimmer
depends on donations from members and visitors to cover.
In previous years, Zimmer donated $1,000 out of his own
financial aid to pay for the costs of refreshments and other
expenses. He feels the club should be self-supporting. That’s why
he also volunteers his time and talent instead of charging.
According to Zimmer, several dance teachers have called him crazy
because of it.
Maybe so, but another tie that binds Zimmer here is his deep
affection for UCLA, which developed from his birth. In fact, Zimmer
says he even cried when he received his acceptance letter to attend
the campus.
"I have a great desire to give back to the school," he says.
"We’re very privileged to be able to attend the university most
sought after."
The doors to the elevator in Kerckhoff opens and out steps
Zimmer’s mother with her dinner in one hand and some juice for her
son in the other.
An hour before the lesson, the lounge, framed by rows of chairs,
is empty. Zimmer runs back and forth, setting up the sound system
and the sign-up table outside the room where his mom sits to help
out with sign-ups.
As 7:00 p.m. approaches, students trickle in, most of them
without a partner. Music plays in the background and gradually the
chatter grows loud enough to accompany it.
It is time.
To start off the evening, Zimmer chooses to review a historical
waltz they learned at a previous lesson.
"Who’s here for the first time?" he asks as several people raise
their hands. "We’re going to learn a historical dance, so find a
partner. Don’t worry, it’s not a lifetime commitment."
Immediately, nervous giggles and shy glances skirt across the
room. With perfect posture and an almost sophisticated air, Zimmer
delicately takes one woman by the hand and starts to teach the
waltz.
Some toes are stepped on, but after a few run-throughs, it seems
like the group gets the hang of it. The men twirl their partners
around the circle in a spinning frenzy to a classical piece.
"You’re not just walking with the lady, you’re protecting her,"
Zimmer says to the men in the group. "And if anything goes wrong,
it’s his fault. Weren’t those the days, ladies?"
Surprisingly, a few men sit or relax against the wall because
they are the surplus that night. The faces of the men on the dance
floor however are flushed with stress and concentration.
To loosen up the large group for the guest salsa teacher, Zimmer
starts to teach a Mexican line dance. It’s amazing to see the
transformation of such a seemingly quiet man into a cha-cha-cha,
body-swinging dancer.
Reva Sober then begins hip warm-ups before her salsa lesson,
while Zimmer sits back and takes care of the music. He also
privately helps out one of the men in the group who is having some
trouble getting the steps down.
The group dances the salsa for the next hour, learning moves
that had one girl crying out, "This is twister!" It is obvious they
are having fun and are enjoying the idea of dancing such a sexy
dance.
One latecomer, who was trying to get the steps down, asks
someone next to him, "What is this dance called?"
The guy next to him replies with a suggestive tone, "The salsa!"
The two smile and continue their fancy footwork.
At around 9:00 p.m., the salsa lesson is over and Zimmer takes
center stage again. He then makes what he calls his commercial
announcement.
For almost five minutes, he explains to the students the
financial situation of the club and asks that non-members give a $5
donation for the lesson, reminding them that they had just received
a free lesson.
Only about 15 stay for the next two hours, during which they
learn line dances, some folk dances and a romantic partner
dance.
"People have always danced to express a feeling. Folk dancing is
a dance of the people," Zimmer says. "It builds a feeling of common
bond between people. In some of the dances, you don’t know what
they’re saying. But the music is fun to dance to so it doesn’t
matter."
At 11:00 p.m., Zimmer finishes his day. Even though it was long
and eventful, Zimmer seems revived by teaching. Or maybe it’s
because he has so many goals and dreams for dance at UCLA.
"One goal I have," he says, "is to put UCLA on the map in terms
of dancing (ballroom and folk). USC has had a good one. It’s a
shame that at the largest university we have very little to speak
of."
Zimmer, however, does have a lot to speak of. The hole in his
shoe is there to prove it.
(first) James Zimmer teaches members of the Ballroom Dance Club
how to dance the salsa on the second floor of Ackerman Union Monday
night.
(second) Zimmer teaches students how to dance a historical
waltz.